


perfect symmetry

by tangentiallly



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/F, kit has a Vivid & Fascinating Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 19:08:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallly/pseuds/tangentiallly
Summary: “You look very symmetrical,” Beatrice said, and Kit felt herself calm down at those words.





	perfect symmetry

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own ASOUE
> 
> please don't copy this story to another site

In the back of her mind somewhere, Kit knew this was a dream.

She was in a room that looked like a room in Hotel Denouement.  She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she was sure that it was.  The room looked mostly symmetrical, with the large bed in the middle and checkered patterns of the sheets.  The desk in front of it has a pen placed in the middle.  There was a cabinet to her right, and the windows beside it.  To her left was a door to the bathroom.  Those weren’t exactly symmetrical, but if she ignored that and just focused on the bed and the table, it wasn’t too unbearable.

She glanced down to see her shirt with some bizarre drawing on it she couldn’t decipher.  It looked very, very far from symmetrical and it bothered her.  She could feel her agitation piling up, for reasons she couldn’t articulate.

Suddenly, Beatrice appeared.  Presumably just dropped out of the ceiling or climbed out of the cabinets.  Graceful and lithe.  An admirable force.  She was wearing a very symmetrical light blue sundress.  Like skies on a bright, sunny day but without the glaring sunlight that could hurt your eyes when you look at it.  Like something Kit could just lie there and stare at for hours.

The single ponytail looked symmetrical, too.  Although it swang a little left and right as Beatrice moved, Kit liked the pattern.  Left. Right. Left. Right.  Left. Right.

"Wish I look as symmetrical as you,” she said, staring at Beatrice.

Beatrice frowned for a moment, her left and right eyebrow inching towards the central simultaneously. Then she asked, “Do you want me to help you take those off?”

“That,” Kit said, “would be great.”

Beatrice moved forwards, sliding onto bed to right in front of the spot Kit was sitting.  She gently pulled at the hems of the shirt, and Kit angled her arms at the correct moments, cooperating with Beatrice.  Upon this proximity, Beatrice smelled like flowers, like she’d just been in a garden.

Kit glanced down a little after the shirt got off, and noticed a stain on one side of the bra.  She felt a little frustrated, like someone just placed a sudden and hard challenge in front of her to block her, right when she was just about to achieve her goal.

“Let me,” Beatrice suggested, her fingers reaching to Kit’s back, skillfully finding the place to unhook the bra immediately.  Kit felt Beatrice’s fingers brushed across her skin, a light touch that made her want to shudder.

“Thanks,” she breathed out as the bra got off.

“You look very symmetrical,” Beatrice said, and Kit felt herself calm down at those words.

“Really?” she asked, hopefully, as if Beatrice’s approval on this subject was somehow very important.  

“Yes,” Beatrice nodded, her large brown eyes sincere.  Beautiful.  Deep.  Kit could drown in those eyes. “I could trace a line right down the middle.”

“Do it, then,” Kit said in a challenging tone. “Prove to me.”

Beatrice surveyed her speculatively, and nodded for a moment, and leant forwards and kissed Kit’s forehead gently.  Kit blinked.

“May I proceed?” Beatrice asked, lips still pressed lightly against Kit’s forehead.

Kit swallowed, her mind racing in anticipation of what was going to happen next. “Go ahead.”

Beatrice kissed her nose next, still in the light, gentle way.  When she moved further down to Kit’s mouth, though, things got a little heated.  She kissed her, passionately, each hand placed on each side of Kit’s shoulders -- very symmetrical, Kit thought -- and her tongue easily flicked across Kit’s lips, parting those lips and then delving in.

Beatrice Baudelaire was a spectacular kisser.

They kissed for a while before Beatrice slowly pulled away, running her tongue across her upper lips for a quick moment.  She looked dazzling.

Hands still on Kit’s shoulders, she leant forwards once again, kissing Kit’s neck.  Kit shuddered involuntarily as Beatrice’s lips met a sensitive spot.  Kit thought she felt traces of Beatrice’s saliva -- or possibly her own -- as Beatrice kissed her neck.

“B,” she gasped a little.  Beatrice’s hand squeezed her shoulders comfortingly.

Symmetrically.

Beatrice didn’t pull away this time.  Instead, she dropped down a little, her mouth landing on the center of Kit’s collarbone.  “You have very beautiful collarbone,” Beatrice murmured, and Kit could feel the movements of Beatrice’s lips on her. “Symmetrical.”

Then Beatrice placed her hands on each of Kit’s breast, tracing them slowly. She dropped down furthermore, quickly kissing the spot right in between Kit’s breasts.

Slowly and surely, Beatrice’s head dropped lower down while she slid herself back little by little, kissing every inch of Kit’s skin along the way.  She held onto Kit’s sides steadily, and Kit felt her abdomen tighten as Beatrice got further down.

“Relax,” Beatrice said, confident and reassuring despite her mouth pressed against Kit’s stomach so her words weren’t very clear. “I’ve got this, Kit.”

“I’m ... trying,” she said, not exactly coherent though she’s not the one using her mouth for multiple purposes right now.  Her abdomen still felt taut, even more so as Beatrice sucked lightly on the spot right above her belly button.

“Lean back,” Beatrice instructed as her mouth moved below the belly button, and sucked lightly again. Kit shuddered again, this time feeling the tension go and her whole upper slump back.  Beatrice didn’t say a word, but Kit could feel a certain smugness oozing off her.

Beatrice’s lips pulled against the top of Kit’s knickers slightly, before releasing it again.  She asked, “I think these look symmetrical, but do you want to get them off anyway?”

“Oh, I’ll take them off,” Kit said, trying to muster the energy to get up.

“Let me,” Beatrice suggested. “Place your legs on my shoulders.”

“... What?” Kit frowned.

“Trust me,” Beatrice said. “It’s more dramatic this way.”

Beatrice had a certain kind of confidence in her that made Kit unable to resist going along with the plan, no matter how impractical it seemed.  So she raised both of her legs, and each of Beatrice’s hand caught a leg at the same time.  Slowly and carefully, she placed Kit’s legs over her shoulders and lifted upwards a little.

Despite how short she was, Beatrice was quite strong.  Kit felt her bottom and then lower back leave the bed, and the next moment, Beatrice’s fingers were on her knickers.  She slid it down to Kit’s thighs slowly, and lowered Kit back down again, placing her legs back onto bed.

Well, Beatrice was right, it was more dramatic this way.  Even though Kit had no idea why she went along with the more dramatic way.  Beatrice leaned backwards, entirely pulling those knickers off.  Kit angled her legs in a bit, helping.  Beatrice grinned at her.

“I believe we haven’t finished,” Beatrice announced grandly, then placed both of her hands on Kit’s inner thighs for balance.  Kit thought that she could feel each and every one of Beatrice’s fingers pressing into her skin.  Beatrice leant forward again, this time her mouth landing on the slit of Kit’s --

“You should get up now, the others would be arriving soon.”

Kit jolted awake.  She was in her room in her apartment she shared with Jacques.  Fully clothed.  Beatrice wasn’t anywhere. Jacques was standing by the door.  She closed her eyes again, feeling the disappointment washing over her.  When she realized she probably couldn’t get back into the dream again, she opened her eyes reluctantly and glared at Jacques.

“What time is it?” She asked, groggily.

“Quarter to nine. You want breakfast?” Jacques said.  Well, if Jacques was making breakfast, she could maybe forgive him for interrupting this amazing dream of hers.  She was starting to feel hungry, anyway -- possibly all those leg exercises in the dreams. Jacques continued. “Bertrand’s making pancakes.”

Then again, maybe not.  To the hell with forgiveness.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://beatricebidelaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
